Death Money
by Brighter-Than-A-Thousand-Suns
Summary: Due to a string of massacre's by an extremely violent werewolf, Owyn and Elise decided to capitalize on the killings. This is their story. Rated T for violence.


_This thing is fucking nuts... It's not a regular werewolf... I used to live on Solstheim, I knew the Skaal. Werewolves aren't like this. A werewolf kills to feed. It doesn't kill much. This thing... it kills everything in it's path. It doesn't even eat most of them. I hear it destroyed the whole the Hla Oad in one night. Every single person. Women and children. No one knows how it does it, because everyone who sees it dies. No one stands a chance, it killed an entire garrison of the Imperial Legion. I think I'm safe here for the moment, there are lots of people here in Vivec._

_Darius Elehan_

"Wow... it sure destroyed things last night... Hey, Owyn, look at this." Elise called to her husband. Owyn stood up, brushed himself off and came to inspect the other body.

"Jugular slashed, neck snapped. Cuirass a bit dented, should be fine. Check the greaves, I wouldn't be surprised if the seams had burst. Apart from that, take it all." He said to her.

"Do you think it'll be back?" asked a civilian Dunmer, standing several feet away.

"No way of telling, my friend. If I were you I'd make sure to lock and bar your door. Have you got any weapons?"

"I have a chitin dagger, but that's it."

"Here, I'll give you this man's spear. It's iron. Didn't do this guy any good, I'm afraid, but if it comes back you might have better luck than he." Owyn wiped a smear of blood off the handle and passed it to the Dunmer. "Hey, Elise? It's getting late. Let's pack up and get back on the road. It's been known to hit a town twice."

"OK, let me just check that house."

"Sounds good. I'll load this stuff up."

Elise went into a small house that had had it's door ripped off. She called out that there were a few chests, so Owyn brought them out. Loading all the armor, gold, weapons and other items of value onto their cart, they had their guar pull it from the village of Gnaar Mok.

"There's still a lot there to get." Elise said as they walked.

"I know, we can get it tomorrow. Shall we go back to the same place as last night?"

"Yeah."

They walked back to their campsite from the night before and re-lit the fire. Owyn had found a large crate of food in the trade house, so they ate well.

Owyn and Elise followed the string of killings by the mysterious werewolf. A werewolf would kill people, but it would never touch their possessions. They simply found out where it had killed each night, went there the next morning and took everything of value. The townspeople that survived would allow this as they were too in shock to do anything about it, and Owyn and Elise gave the impression of trying to help them. They would then sell their merchandise to vendors in other cities or over the black market. Over the course of a few weeks they'd become incredibly rich and famous, and made sure to command attention wherever they went by wearing the best armors and clothes and carrying the best weapons.

"I think we should have an early start tomorrow morning." Owyn said as he ate a large mudcrab fillet, "I want to get the rest of the stuff from Gnaar Mok, then sell as much as we can. We'll head to Balmora, unload there. Could probably pawn off some of the armor to Fort Moonmoth."

"I guess. I want to get a decent sleep though."

"OK, you sleep in and I'll go to the village and take all the remaining stuff, wake you when I get back, then we'll head for Balmora."

"That works. Yeah, that'll do great."

"Yeah. And I'll summon something to just watch over you. I wouldn't put it past bandits to try and steal something or attack you."

"They can try. I'd just slice them to shreds with Hopesfire."

Owyn had destroyed Almalexia after she mistakenly thought he was the Nerevarine. He'd taken her sword, Hopesfire, and given it to Elise and kept Trueflame for himself.

"That's all well and good, but what if they steal our stuff without waking you?"

"Good point."

That night Owyn lay awake and heard shouts and screams from the village nearby. He ignored them. There was nothing he could do.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, Owyn strapped on his custom made, imported armor, clipped his crossbow to his belt on one side, Trueflame on the other, and set off with the cart back to Gnaar Mok. No one had survived the night. Every door was ripped off it's hinges, the air reeked of blood and the beginnings of decay, and there were corpses everywhere. He quickly stripped everyone of their clothes and armor, then systematically went through the houses and took everything of value. Near the end of this short circuit, he found one door intact. This was unexpected.

It was unlocked. He pushed it open.

This house was as small as all the others, nothing special. Nothing apart from the pale Dunmer holding an iron spear.

"It... it... it killed them all... every last one..."

Owyn looked at him contemptuously.

"Disgusting." he spat, and shot him.


End file.
